


Rainy Day

by lotsofquestionslimitedanswers



Series: To Be Better To You [7]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Caught in the Rain, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Needs A Nap, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Needs a Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jaskier also needs a nap, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion Needs a Hug, M/M, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24672397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotsofquestionslimitedanswers/pseuds/lotsofquestionslimitedanswers
Summary: Geralt blames himself when he and Jaskier get caught in the rain, so Geralt tries to make it up to Jaskier. They have a talk about it.Excerpt:As much as Jaskier would like to just sit back and enjoy the affection Geralt is pouring over him at the moment, it is enough to worry Jaskier a little for several reasons. The first reason is that Geralt is strung tighter than usual and seems one incident away from breaking. The second reason is that Geralt was more publicly affectionate than usual. Typically, when patrons glare at Geralt, Geralt lets go of Jaskier’s hand to avoid trouble. This time, Geralt held on tightly to Jaskier’s hand from the moment they walked into the inn until they got into their room. Now, Geralt is untying Jaskier’s boots.“Is something the matter, my dear?” Jaskier asks.Geralt’s hands still for a moment and Geralt says, “I’m fine.”“Darling, when you say that you’re fine, it is rarely accurate.”“Hmm,”“Yes, hmm.” Jaskier takes Geralt’s face into his hands. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: To Be Better To You [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1616074
Comments: 8
Kudos: 166





	1. This Is Exactly Where I Want To Be

**Author's Note:**

> This is rated G, but there is some cussing in it. (Everything is G-rated though, so that's why I rated it G.)

**Geralt**

The temperature has dropped several degrees in the past hour and the wind has begun to blow. Jaskier sneezed for the first time twenty minutes ago and Geralt felt it in his heart. Witchers are not supposed to have feelings, but clearly something went wrong at the trials because everything about Jaskier always seems to make Geralt feel something. Right now, that something is pain and regret—not because of Jaskier-but because of Geralt. Geralt was foolish. They had come across a perfectly fine town to stop at, but Geralt just _had_ to keep going. Jaskier had wanted to stop for the night but agreed to keep going when Geralt asked him to.

Why did Geralt ask that of Jaskier? Jaskier, who is human and for all his strength, much more fragile than Geralt and more susceptible to illnesses caused by cold and fatigue. Did Geralt think about any of those things before moving on from that town? No. He did not. He thought only that they should keep moving. Stay on the Path.

Geralt has begun to feel rather guilty about a lot of things lately: allowing a companion on the Path (no one ever said he was allowed to have one, so he has always assumed it was forbidden), his Child Surprise who he has been ignoring, his inner-turmoil when it comes to actually telling Jaskier how he feels.

Jaskier and Geralt are in a committed romantic relationship, but Geralt still struggles to find the words to tell Jaskier how much he loves him. It’s so difficult sometimes and Geralt _cannot understand_ why. He never understands why his mouth cannot form the words—why he cannot describe the warm sensation he gets every time he gets to hold Jaskier’s hand and kiss him and even just stand next to him. How can Geralt ever explain a feeling so soft and yet so fucking immense? He’s not a poet.

It doesn’t matter now. Because here they are, trying to find a place to stay for the night. After Geralt insisted they continue traveling, it had started getting colder and windier, so they stopped at the next village…only to be promptly invited to leave. Well, _invited to leave_ isn’t exactly the right way to say it. Apparently Witchers are not allowed to stay at inns in that village.

Jaskier was furious. Geralt could feel anger oozing off his bard. Usually, that means Geralt needs to hold Jaskier back because Jaskier’s about to pounce. Geralt has had to sneak Jaskier out of many a jailcell for Jaskier’s tendency to get “stabby” (Jaskier’s word—not Geralt’s) whenever people insult Geralt.

This time, Jaskier stood up straight, looked the innkeeper in the eye and asked for his name. The innkeeper called himself Adam the Fearless. Jaskier pulled his notebook and a pencil out of his pack; he wrote down the innkeeper’s name, returned his supplies to his pack, took Geralt’s hand, and stomped out of the inn. When they were outside, Jaskier pulled his writing supplies out again, wrote the inn’s name down, put the supplies back, and led the way to Roach.

Jaskier began composing once the village was out of sight. It has now been an hour since they left the village.

“Is this too on the nose for the chorus?” Jaskier asks, and then begins to sing,

“Adam, Adam, we cannot fathom, what an awfully large piece of shit you are!  
Adam, Adam, we cannot fathom, how willfully ignorant you are!  
Adam the Fearless, more like Adam the Asshole, it’s more accurate and has alliteration!  
Dear friends, never visit the Sleeping Dragon.  
Nothing lurks inside except ignorance, awful smells, and human-sized turds.  
The food looks inedible, don’t get me started on the wine!  
It’s run by a someone who wouldn’t know kindness and hospitality if it hit him firmly on the behind!”

Jaskier stops singing and looks at Geralt. “So, what do you think? I know that last bit didn’t rhyme, but I think it sounds close enough for a first draft.”

“Um,” Geralt isn’t sure what to say.

Geralt’s touched that Jaskier wishes to fight back against the innkeeper who turned them away only because Geralt is a Witcher, but he worries that if Jaskier makes a habit of attacking innkeepers, then it will get harder for Jaskier to find places to stay during his travels should he and Geralt ever separate again. (Not that Geralt _wants_ to separate from Jaskier. He’d much rather travel with the bard forever—not that he can find the words to _tell him_ that. It feels too needy. Witchers should not be needy. Geralt is a Witcher, therefore Geralt should not be needy.)

“Yes, yes, it does lack a certain finesse. I’m still working on it. I’m just so frustrated with the situation. It’s not fair that people don’t allow you to stay just because of something you cannot—” Jaskier sneezes. “Oh my, sorry; that was rather loud. Anyway, as I was saying,” Jaskier continues on, but Geralt’s not listening anymore.

Jaskier sneezed. Jaskier’s getting sick. It’s all Geralt’s fault. If Geralt had just stopped when Jaskier wanted to, then Jaskier would be warm and asleep in bed right now.

Rain begins to pour down on them half an hour later.

Geralt’s heart drops.

Jaskier curses.

“I really need to get a waterproof bag one of these days. My clothes are going to be soaked. At least my lute-case is waterproof.” Jaskier comments as he puts his lute away in its case.

As miserable and guilt-ridden Geralt is, he still finds it endearing that Jaskier protects his lute instead of his clothing. Music is Jaskier’s dearest treasure after all.

Geralt takes off his cloak and holds it out to Jaskier, “Here,” Geralt says.

Jaskier looks at Geralt and Geralt drops the cloak into Jaskier’s hands. “Are you sure?” Jaskier asks.

“Yes, it’s not much, but it should help a little.” Geralt replies.

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

Jaskier opens his mouth to argue, but Geralt looks away from Jaskier to signal the he’d like the argument to be over.

“Well, thank you. This is very nice of you.” Jaskier says.

Geralt looks and sees that Jaskier has put the cloak on. Something warm tugs at Geralt’s heart when he sees Jaskier put the hood over his head…now Jaskier smells like both of them. And there’s something almost adorable about the way the cloak is just a little bit too big for Jaskier. (Geralt is not that much bigger than Jaskier. They’re nearly the same height after all.)

But Geralt should not find Jaskier adorable. He’s forty fucking years old. Not that Jaskier looks forty. No, he looks maybe thirty…more like late twenties. Geralt doesn’t understand human aging. He just knows that Jaskier does not look his age and it is strange and Geralt has been meaning to ask about it, but it’s just another thing Geralt wants to say, but when he opens his mouth to ask a question, nothing comes out. Curse his mouth. Geralt knows other Witchers, so he knows his anxiety over talking is not a Witcher thing, but rather a Geralt thing.

Jaskier sneezes again, pulling Geralt out of his reverie.

Geralt stops Roach. “Hop on.” Geralt offers Jaskier a hand. “It’ll be faster.”

Jaskier grins and takes Geralt’s hand. Geralt pulls Jaskier up and Jaskier sits behind Geralt and wraps his arms around Geralt’s waist. Jaskier’s shivering. Geralt guides Roach to walk faster. It’s not good for Roach’s back to do this for too long, so Geralt’s hoping they’ll find a new village soon.

An hour later, the rain _still_ has not let up. Jaskier has been quiet, but Geralt can feel Jaskier shiver against him. Jaskier’s sniffling and coughing now. He’s surely going to end up getting sick at this rate (if he isn’t sick already). What’s worse, Geralt can feel misery ooze off Jaskier who has his arms wrapped tightly around Geralt’s middle and his face pressed against Geralt’s back.

Geralt nearly cries with relief when he sees lights in the distance. That must be a town ahead.

“Let’s go Roach,” Geralt says to get Roach to trot.

They get to the town quickly. Geralt steers Roach into the barn of the nearest inn and gets her settled in there. He wishes he had an extra treat for her. Geralt worked her harder than he usually does. Perhaps he can bring her something later. Geralt turns to see that Jaskier is carrying all their things from Roach’s saddle.

“Here, let me.” Geralt puts his hand out and Jaskier hands Geralt Geralt’s bag. “I can take yours too,” Geralt says.

“Oh,” Jaskier hands Geralt his bag. “Thank you Geralt. That’s awfully nice of you.”

Geralt puts the straps of the two bags across his left shoulder and uses his right hand to take Jaskier’s hand. Geralt then leads the way to the inn. Jaskier’s shivering and walks so close to Geralt that they sometimes bump shoulders.

“Sorry,” Jaskier mumbles an apology.

“You’re fine.” Geralt says, letting go of Jaskier’s hand, wrapping his arm around his shoulders instead, pulling Jaskier close.

“You’re so warm.” Jaskier leans in to Geralt. “Feels so good.”

Once they get into the inn, Geralt removes his arm from Jaskier’s shoulders and takes his hand instead. He feels eyes on them immediately and Geralt feels their stares like knives in his back. But, he cannot let go of Jaskier’s hand. Not this time. He wants to show Jaskier how much he cares…he owes it to him after making him stay in the rain and cold for so long.

“One room please,” Geralt tells the innkeeper. “And a bath.”

“You’re lucky. We have one left that has a bath.” The innkeeper says.

Geralt can feel Jaskier’s relief.

“Excellent. Can you also send up some dinner, please?” Geralt shoves some money across the counter. “And some bath salts and soaps that smell good and bubble if you have them.”

“Will do,” The innkeeper slides a key to Geralt. “You’re in the last room to the right.”

Geralt takes the key and thanks the innkeeper. Then he and Jaskier walk to the room. Once in there, Geralt looks around. There’s a fireplace and some wood. He releases Jaskier’s hand and prepares the fireplace.

There’s a thumping sound behind Geralt. Jaskier curses. Geralt looks to see Jaskier sprawled out on the ground.

“Are you alright?” Geralt asks.

“I’m fine. Just clumsy.” Jaskier replies, struggling with the laces on his boots. His hands are shaking too much.

Geralt uses _igni_ to start the fire in the fireplace. Then he walks over to Jaskier. He sits in front of the bard and puts his hands over Jaskier’s. “Here,” Geralt says. “Let me.”

_Jaskier_

As much as Jaskier would like to just sit back and enjoy the affection Geralt is pouring over him at the moment, it is enough to worry Jaskier a little for several reasons. The first reason is that Geralt is strung tighter than usual and seems one incident away from breaking. The second reason is that Geralt was more publicly affectionate than usual. Typically, when patrons glare at Geralt, Geralt lets go of Jaskier’s hand to avoid trouble. This time, Geralt held on tightly to Jaskier’s hand from the moment they walked into the inn until they got into their room. Now, Geralt is untying Jaskier’s boots.

“Is something the matter, my dear?” Jaskier asks.

Geralt’s hands still for a moment and Geralt says, “I’m fine.”

“Darling, when you say that you’re fine, it is rarely accurate.”

“Hmm,”

“Yes, hmm.” Jaskier takes Geralt’s face into his hands. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

Geralt refuses to look at Jaskier.

Jaskier feels a sneeze build and he releases Geralt’s face and turns away, sneezing into his elbow.

“Goodness. Sorry about that.” Jaskier apologizes.

He looks back at Geralt who is staring at him with a sorrowful expression.

Oh.

“Geralt, are you feeling guilty because we got rained on?” Jaskier asks.

Geralt looks away again.

“It really doesn’t matter that we got rained on. If anything, we got early baths.” Jaskier says.

“You might get sick.” Geralt mumbles.

“Oh, dear heart, humans get sick sometimes. It’s okay. I’m not upset that we were in the rain. If it makes you feel better, I don’t think I’ll get sick anyway. I haven’t sneezed much and I haven’t coughed at all and I think my nose will probably stop running after a bath.”

“You were miserable out there.” Geralt’s looking at Jaskier with golden eyes full of guilt and sadness.

“Well, yes, I was not exactly having the _best_ time, but I don’t mind now. Besides, if I’m going to be miserable in the rain with anyone, I’d like it to be you.”

Geralt blinks at Jaskier.

“Wherever you are is _exactly_ where I want to be. That includes the time we were captured by the elves, that time when we both got sick after getting caught in the snow after I failed to give accurate directions to a palace where I was supposed to perform. That includes when we roasted under the sun that summer when neither of us could find work. That includes fifteen minutes ago before we even knew there was a village nearby. And now, when I’m dripping wet and starting to get warm again. This is where I want to be. You don’t have to order fancy bubbles or help me out of my boots or hold my hand when you do not want to in order for me to continue to want to be with you. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the efforts—especially the boots because I fear I will not be able to undo those bootstring knots—but, I know you pushed yourself to be physically affectionate with me downstairs. If you _want_ to hold my hand in public, then please do it, but you did not seem comfortable. I waited until now to say something because I did not wish to further your discomfort.”

“I wanted to make you happy.” Geralt says.

Jaskier’s heart _aches_. How can he explain this to Geralt? How can he explain how magnificent he finds Geralt? Firstly, Geralt is Jaskier’s best friend. Jaskier has never had a best friend before, but even if Jaskier had, he knows he would choose Geralt over anyone else. Geralt listens. Geralt watches out for Jaskier. Geralt holds Jaskier close when Jaskier wakes up screaming from nightmares. Secondly, Geralt is kind and funny and thoughtful and cares so much about the people around him. He works diligently to protect people from creatures tormenting them. He protects Jaskier constantly in physical and emotional ways. He takes good care of Roach. He tries so hard to do the right thing. _And_ he’s bloody gorgeous. Jaskier genuinely does not know what there is not to like about Geralt. Sure, Geralt is grumpy and sometimes says unkind things, but _so does Jaskier_ , so how can he hold that against Geralt?

“Can I hug you?” Jaskier asks.

Geralt hesitates, but nods.

Jaskier hugs Geralt and says, “I am happy standing beside you as long as you don’t seem uncomfortable. I’d love to hold your hand all the time, but if there are times when you are uncomfortable holding hands, then I do not want to do it. Your happiness is important too, my dear.”

“Witchers do not need to be happy.” Geralt replies.

Jaskier’s heart just about breaks. Jaskier hates it when Geralt says that Witchers are supposed to be one way and therefore Geralt must be that way. Jaskier does not even believe Witchers are really supposed to live up to all the expectations Geralt has told Jaskier about—especially the bit about Witchers not having feelings. That is a load of rubbish. More importantly, even if Witchers were supposed to be all the things Geralt claims they should be, that does not mean Geralt must be that way. Geralt is a person. And a good one at that! He should give himself a break. But Jaskier knows Geralt probably won’t do that. One does not undo years and years of a bad habit quickly. Of course, that does not stop Jaskier from trying to convince Geralt to give himself a break. Geralt deserves to be kinder to himself.

“Geralt, you _do_ need to be happy. You’re a person as well as a witcher.” Jaskier says.

Geralt doesn’t reply.

“Your happiness is just as important as mine, my dear.” Jaskier reminds Geralt.

“You really _do_ mean that when you say it; don’t you?” Geralt stares into Jaskier’s eyes.

“Of course, I do. I would not lie to you about something as important as this.”

There’s a knock on the door and then three people come in carrying bath supplies. They set up in the corner and then leave, closing the door behind them.

Neither Geralt nor Jaskier says anything for a few moments. Geralt finishes untying Jaskier’s boots and pulls them off Jaskier’s feet. Then he takes Jaskier’s hand and plays with their fingers. The action would seem absentminded if anyone else was doing it, but Geralt’s shoulders are tense and his eyebrows are scrunched together. He’s contemplating something.

Jaskier wants to ask Geralt what is on his mind but instead, decides to be patient and let Geralt think.

“Jaskier?” Geralt asks.

“Yes, Geralt?” Jaskier replies.

“Now that it has been established that you won’t leave, can I still do what I wanted to do for you this evening? It’s not a lot…no time to prepare really. But it’s something.”

“I suppose it depends on what you want to do. Perhaps you’d like to share in whatever you have planned? You were out in the rain and wind too.”

“No.” Geralt shakes his head. “Tonight is my turn to do nice things for you. There is nothing elaborate planned anyway. Just a bath, a warm meal, warm clothes, and sleep.”

“Oh, Geralt. That sounds _divine_.” Jaskier presses a kiss to Geralt’s forehead. Tonight sounds perfect after being rained on: warm food, a bath, and cuddles with Geralt.

A small smile lights Geralt’s face.

Geralt helps Jaskier out of his wet clothes and Jaskier gets into the bath. Geralt loads it with as many soaps and perfumes as he can find. Then he washes Jaskier’s hair—which is a truly heavenly experience—and Jaskier nearly falls asleep. Geralt hands Jaskier a towel and Jaskier dries himself off. Then Geralt goes into his bag and comes back with a wrapped bundle. He hands it to Jaskier.

“This is for you,” Geralt looks down. “I—I knew there’d eventually be a day like today, so I was um, prepared. Well, not completely prepared. I should’ve gotten you a waterproof bag or a cloak instead.”

“Oh, thank you, Geralt. You didn’t have to get me anything though.” Jaskier opens the package and pulls out a spare set of clothing in his size: soft black trousers and a softer black shirt along with stockings and small-clothes.

Jaskier smiles so wide his face begins to hurt. “You got me soft clothes to sleep in after a rainy day?”

“I didn’t know what color to get so I just went with black,”

“So, we’d match?” Jaskier is so touched, he feels tears sting his eyes. He blinks them back, not wanting to alarm Geralt.

“Um,” Geralt’s face is bright red. “Wait; are you crying?”

“No—well, yes, a little, but not in a bad way. I’m just so touched. This was such a sweet gesture.” Jaskier says.

“Oh; okay, good.”

“This is quite possibly the best gift I’ve ever been given.” Jaskier hugs the sleep-clothes to his chest. “Thank you, Geralt.”

“You really like them?”

“Yes, I’m excited to wear them! You get in the bath, I’ll wash your hair, and then I’ll change into these.”

Geralt nods, a smile dancing across his face.

Jaskier washes Geralt’s hair, taking great care to remove any leaves and mud he finds. Then he dries off and changes into his new clothes. He has no clue how Geralt got the measurements right, but he did. The clothing is so soft. Jaskier feels like he’s wearing a hug.

Geralt dries off and changes into his own sleep clothes.

“Ooh, can I braid your hair?” Jaskier asks.

“But, tonight is supposed to be about you.”

“Sure, but I like to braid your hair. Seeing you taken care of makes me happy.”

Geralt’s eyes widen for a moment, but he pulls out the hairbrush Jaskier bought for him a few days ago and hands it to Jaskier. Then Geralt sits on the bed.

Jaskier sits behind Geralt and brushes Geralt’s hair, humming softly as he works.

“Gosh, sorry; this one is tricky.” Jaskier says when he comes across a particularly nasty knot.

**Geralt**

Geralt cannot help but shiver as Jaskier’s careful fingers work the knots out of his hair. The bard works slowly, brushing out Geralt’s hair section by section.

“Your hair really is quite lovely, you know.” Jaskier says.

Geralt does not know. His white hair is a mark to humans that he is a witcher and therefore a threat.

“Oh, and you have _so much_ fucking hair. I love it.” Jaskier says. “It’s so long and soft.”

Geralt finds those to be conveniences, not reasons for praise. Jaskier clearly thinks otherwise.

“Your hair is…short and soft.” Geralt mumbles, wishing he could come up with something better to say.

Jaskier presses a kiss into Geralt’s left shoulder and says, “Thank you, dear heart.”

Geralt feels warmth bloom in his chest, spreading down to his toes. “I wish it were summer.” Geralt whispers.

“Why is that?” Jaskier asks.

“Then we could camp outside, catch fireflies, sleep under the stars…just us…and Roach I can’t leave her behind.” Geralt imagines Jaskier grinning at him with a handful of glowing bugs. It’s a stupid thing to think of, but it sounds like the perfect night. They could camp near a river and Jaskier could catch fish (because Geralt is a rubbish fisherman). Geralt could cook while Jaskier plays his lute and sings by the fire.

“That sounds lovely,” Jaskier whispers. “Tell me more?”

Geralt tries to describe the night he wishes they could have.

“We could camp near a river. You could fish. I could cook what you catch. You could play your lute and sing something while we wait for the fish to cook. I could tell stories about the stars and perhaps recall some of the ones I used to tell the other Witchers at Kaer Morhen. You could tell me some of your stories about life as a bard. It would be quiet and peaceful.” Geralt speaks in a soft voice, worried that if he speaks any louder his wish will never come true.

Jaskier ties off the braid with a hair-tie wraps his arms around Geralt. “That sounds like the perfect night.” Jaskier whispers.

Geralt smiles at Jaskier.

Jaskier smiles back.

As if on cue, there is a knock on the door.

Geralt gets up and opens the door. The innkeeper hands Geralt their food: soup and bread. Then nods at Geralt, walking away.

“Thank you,” Geralt says.

Geralt closes the door with his foot and hands Jaskier a bowl.

“Ooh, perfect.” Jaskier grins.

Geralt nods.

Jaskier and Geralt sit together on the bed as they eat their dinner.

After they eat, Geralt helps Jaskier lay his clothes out to dry. Geralt really needs to buy Jaskier a waterproof bag.

When they’re done, Geralt feels a wave of fatigue wash over him. He looks over to Jaskier who’s yawning.

“Shall we get to bed?” Geralt asks.

Jaskier nods. “Let’s. I’m ready for sleep and snuggles.”

Geralt puts all the lights out and gets into bed beside Jaskier. Geralt pulls Jaskier into his arms and whispers, “I love you.”

Jaskier lets out a happy hum, pressing his face over Geralt’s heart and before whispering, “I love you too.”

Geralt falls asleep dreaming of fireflies and warmth and the sound of Jaskier’s laughter.

…

Outside Narrator

Geralt’s wish is granted eight months from now. It’s a bit different than Geralt’s original wish though. A third person is with them: Geralt’s Child Surprise, Ciri, who they had run into months before the Geralt’s wish is granted. The four of them (Geralt, Jaskier, Ciri, and Roach) camp near water. Jaskier teaches Ciri how to fish. Geralt cooks while Jaskier plays and sings while Ciri dances near the fire. The three eat the fish. The three catch fireflies together. The three lie under the stars and tell stories. Geralt tells stories from Kaer Morhen. Jaskier tells stories of his life as a bard. Ciri tells stories her grandparents used to tell her. Geralt falls asleep with Jaskier in his arms and Ciri safe close by. It’s the perfect night.

The perfect night is nearly recreated a month later when they finally find Yennefer after months of searching for her. The five of them (Geralt, Jaskier, Yennefer, Ciri, and Roach) camp near the water. Jaskier and Ciri fish. Ciri catches the biggest one and brags about it for the rest of the night. Jaskier tells Ciri how proud of her he is for the rest of the night and brags about his teaching skills. Geralt watches the two fondly; Ciri and Jaskier have grown quite close since Ciri crashed into them a few months ago. Yennefer reminds Jaskier about the saying that those who cannot do teach. Jaskier rolls his eyes and makes a rude gesture at Yennefer, but he cannot stop himself from laughing because the two had made up months before Geralt and Jaskier found Ciri. Geralt cooks the fish. Yennefer uses her magic to make a light show while they wait for the fish to cook. It’s beautiful. Ciri knows all the words to Jaskier’s songs now and she sings while she dances as Jaskier plays his lute and sings. They eat the fish. The four catch fireflies together. Yennefer was the first to see them and pointed them out to Ciri who hopped up immediately and started chasing them. Geralt joins Ciri and hears giggling behind him. He turns to see Jaskier and Yennefer competing to see who can catch more fireflies. (Yennefer wins.) The four lie under the stars and tell stories. Geralt tells some more stories from Kaer Morhen, making sure to retell his favorite so Yennefer can hear it too. Jaskier tells more stories about his life as a bard except he does retell a few of the funnier ones for Yennefer. Ciri tells more stories that her grandparents told her. Yennefer tells stories of her life as a mage. Geralt falls asleep with Jaskier’s head over his heart, Ciri lying close-by to Geralt’s right and Yennefer lying to Jaskier’s left. They’re all safe and warm and happy. It’s a perfect night.


	2. I Was So Lonely Before I Met You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier wakes up with a cold after being out in the rain for so long. He and Geralt have some emotional conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this story is going to be more than two chapters long. It seems to have a mind of its own, so buckle up friends. Enjoy this fresh dose of angst and cuddles!:)
> 
> WARNING: child abuse is referenced; it's not graphic, but Jaskier talks vaguely about why he ran away from home (but he doesn't really go into detail). Just a warning so you know to look for it.

_Jaskier_

Jaskier wakes up with a burning, dry throat. It hurts to swallow. It hurts to breathe through his mouth, but that’s what he has to do because his nose is stopped up. He’s not sure what time it is. Geralt’s still asleep. Jaskier can feel Geralt’s arms wrapped around his waist and his nose buried in his hair. It’s so lovely. Jaskier’s glad he’s awake for this even if his throat does hurt a little.

Then Jaskier feels something itch his throat. Because _of course_ he does. Why would he get to just lie here with Geralt without interruption? He tries to clear his throat quietly without waking Geralt up. It hurts to do that, but he’s glad that at least he doesn’t need to cough anymore. He imagines that will hurt worse.

“Jask?” Geralt mumbles in a sleepy voice. “You ‘kay?”

Jaskier’s heart warms at the sound of Geralt’s voice. It’s not often Jaskier wakes up before Geralt, so he rarely gets to hear Geralt’s sleepy voice. He has heard Geralt’s exhausted and miserable voice plenty of times which Jaskier _does not_ count as Geralt’s sleepy voice. Geralt’s sleepy voice sounds content so it’s a treat to hear in the morning. At least, Jaskier _thinks_ it’s morning. He’s still not quite sure.

“I’m alright, dear heart.” Jaskier replies. “Go back to sleep if you’d like.”

“Okay, glad you’re okay. ‘m go-in’ to sleep.” Geralt snuggles closer to Jaskier and soon his breathing evens out again.

Jaskier listens to Geralt breathing and eventually falls asleep himself.

…

Jaskier wakes up to birds chirping outside. Jaskier shivers. He feels as though he is trapped in snow. He’s fucking freezing. There are blankets over him, but the warm presence beside him in the bed is gone.

Where’s Geralt?

Jaskier opens his eyes right as Geralt walks over.

Geralt freezes when he sees that Jaskier is awake. The Witcher looks from the cloth in his hand to Jaskier to the cloth again.

“What’s with the cloth?” Jaskier asks. “Why are you not in bed?”

Geralt sits on the edge of the bed beside Jaskier. “You started running a fever, so I removed myself, so I did not contribute to it.” Geralt explains. “Can I put this damp cloth on your forehead? It should help with the fever.”

Jaskier nods and his head aches from the movement.

“How are you feeling?” Geralt asks. He brushes Jaskier’s bangs back and puts the cloth on Jaskier’s forehead. It’s cold and Jaskier shivers.

Good question.

Jaskier considers his answer. “I think I might have a cold?” Jaskier guesses.

“Hmm…So, sore throat, fever, headache; anything else?” Geralt asks.

Jaskier can’t help but smile at Geralt. His Witcher knows his usual cold symptoms. It’s sweet that he cares so much to remember things like that.

Geralt cocks his head to the side and asks, “What?”

“You’re so good to me.” Jaskier says.

Geralt frowns and looks away.

“No, really.” Jaskier reaches out and takes Geralt’s hand. “You’re always taking care of me. From the beginning with Filivandrel and his companions to all those times you’ve snuck me out of villages where I’d slept with the wrong people to the times I’ve been sick or injured and you nursed me back to health to the times when you held me when I cried because of nightmares. You’ve always been there for me. And I’m so grateful for it.”

“It’s my fault you’re sick.” Geralt’s voice is soft and he stares at his and Jaskier’s hands.

“No. I’m sick because we happened to have gotten caught in the rain after we _both_ agreed we should keep travelling for the night. It’s not your fault that I’m sick. And _I’m_ the one who’s sick, so that means I get to decide how it happened. It’s the rules.” Jaskier releases Geralt’s hand to cross his arms over his chest and stare at Geralt whilst wearing his best petulant look.

Geralt finally looks at Jaskier and cracks a small smile. “Is that so?”

“Yes. It is.” Jaskier smiles back but looks Geralt in the eyes so he knows that Jaskier really does believe that it’s no one’s fault that he’s sick.

They stare at each other for a few beats.

Jaskier breaks the silence. “Would you like to snuggle?”

“I’m worried I’ll make your fever worse. I carry more heat than you do.”

“Yes, that’s one of the many reasons why sleeping next to you is _glorious_.”

Geralt’s cheeks turn pink and Jaskier’s heart skips a beat. Jaskier has made _a lot_ of people blush in his day, but it’s somehow all the more special when it’s _Geralt_ that Jaskier makes blush.

“Fine.” Geralt says. “Move over. But if this makes your fever worse, we’re stopping.”

Jaskier feels warm on the inside. Geralt’s such a softy.

**Geralt**

As soon as Geralt is under the covers, wraps an arm around Jaskier’s waist, pulling him close. Jaskier sighs contentedly as he rests his head over Geralt’s heart. Geralt keeps one arm wrapped around Jaskier. He uses his free hand to run his fingers through the bard’s hair.

“Oh, you spoil me, my dear.” Jaskier presses a kiss over Geralt’s heart.

Geralt chuckles and presses a kiss into Jaskier’s hair. “Go to sleep, Jask.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” Jaskier says, nuzzling closer. “I love you, Geralt.”

“I love you, Jaskier.”

“I love hearing you say that.”

“Then let me say it again, I love you, Jaskier.”

“You’re so good to me. I always feel so safe when I’m with you.” Jaskier giggles. “And warm.”

Geralt realizes the rag has fallen off Jaskier’s forehead and is lost somewhere in the blankets. He gently presses the back of his hand to Jaskier’s forehead. It’s not much warmer than it was before.

“You’re further illustrating my point, darling.” Jaskier says. “I don’t think you need to worry. It’s probably just a cold.”

“You’re probably right, but I’m still going to worry.” Geralt starts stroking Jaskier’s hair again.

Jaskier goes quiet and Geralt wonders if he has gone to sleep. Jaskier’s heartbeat and breathing indicate that he’s awake, but he’s not talking. That’s concerning. A quiet Jaskier is rarely a happy Jaskier.

“There’s not a very long list of people who have worried about me.” Jaskier says in a soft voice.

Geralt opens his mouth to say something, but Jaskier presses on.

“It’s silly that it bothers me, but it does.” Jaskier says. “There were a lot of people who were _supposed_ to worry about me who never bothered doing so. Then you came along and I annoyed you into being my friend and somewhere along the way, our friendship grew into something strong, powerful even, and then romance bloomed and now we’re here and there’s nowhere I would rather be. And I know you care about me and it’s…and it’s so strange to think that after years and years _and_ _years_ of short-lived attempts at love that someone _actually_ cares about me. Especially someone as good and kind and noble and funny and strong and gorgeous as you. You’re so much more than I deserve, Geralt.”

Suddenly Geralt is full of words. “That’s not true. You deserve the world, Jaskier. And if I’m who you want, then you have me. You deserve good things and if—to you—I’m a good thing. If…if I’m as good as you say, then you deserve me. Also…you did _not_ annoy your way into a friendship with me. If I ever said anything to make you think that then I need to learn how to turn back time so I can kick my own ass for that.”

“That would be quite the spectacle.” Jaskier whispers.

Geralt waits a few moments before asking, “Who were you thinking of?”

“What do you mean?” Jaskier asks.

“The ones who were supposed to care but didn’t bother.”

“Oh, well. I guess…I guess it started with my parents. If they were here with us listening to this conversation, they would argue that they were good parents because they supplied me with so many things, but they only cared about the version of me they wanted to create instead of well… _me_. So, I ran away when I was fifteen. The short version of that story is that my father had a temper and my mother had a penchant for throwing things. The long version of the story will probably end with me in tears, so I’d rather not tell it at the moment. Someday though. After I ran away, well, I just never stopped talking.” Jaskier chuckles but it’s bitter. “I’ve always had trouble holding back my words and after what I’d been through with my parents…well…let’s just say I didn’t think anyone would do anything worse to me than I’d already been through. I wasn’t entirely wrong. I wasn’t entirely right either.” Jaskier sighs. “I was just…I don’t know. I annoy people. You saw me in Posada. No one liked my music. My singing was annoying. I got food thrown at me which was actually helpful at the time because I wasn’t able to eat otherwise, but it would’ve been nice to have gotten some coin for my singing back then instead. Then I could have actually stayed at the inn I performed at rather than seek shelter outside or go sleep with someone to make sure I could sleep in a bed for the night. That was school for me too. I went to Oxenfurt, graduated not at but near the top of my class but I was still considered annoying amongst the staff and my peers. I didn’t stop talking. I was a bit of a know-it-all. Which again, shouldn’t come as a surprise to you. It was hard. And then I found you. And it’s not as if my life suddenly became easier, but at least I had found a traveling companion. At least I had found someone who didn’t throw things at me. At least I had found someone who let me sit by the fire with them. At least I had found someone who made sure I was safe and warm and had access to food and listened to me when I rambled on and on about nothing and everything all at once. And I knew—after a while—that you really _did_ like me and you really _did_ want me around.” Jaskier pulls away and starts coughing into his elbow.

Geralt rubs Jaskier’s back and tries to think of something to say.

When Jaskier stops coughing, he starts talking again. “I knew you cared about me once you came to a performance of mine a year after we met. You had no reason to be there, but there you were. And then we began traveling again and the amount of times we spent apart became fewer and fewer over the years. And now we’re here. I like here—no—I _love_ here. It’s the best place I’ve ever been. And I know that you feel bad that it comes with blood and fear and danger and the occasional spout of ill-weather, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I was so lonely before I met you.” Jaskier sniffles. “ _So_ , lonely. And you,” Jaskier lets out a small sob and wraps his arms around Geralt’s middle, burying his face into Geralt’s chest. “I’m sorry. I get…I get sad when I’m sick. I don’t…I don’t know why—” Jaskier begins to cry.

“It’s okay.” Geralt holds Jaskier close. “It’s okay. Just let it out, Jask.”

“I just…I just want to stop thinking about it…about them…I’m forty fucking years old. I should be over it by now.” Jaskier sobs.

“I don’t think it’s that easy. Some things are,” Geralt runs his fingers through Jaskier’s hair as he struggles to find the right words. “Some things are harder to deal with than others. You should not expect yourself to get over something like this. It’s not a fair expectation to hold yourself to. It’s not healthy, Jask. You’ve been hurt. Repeatedly. By different people. But it started with your parents.”

Geralt thinks about his own mother and how angry he still is at her for leaving him for Vesemir to find.

“Some wounds never fully heal.” Geralt continues. “I don’t think it’s not because we’re weak. I think it’s because the injury is old and was given to us by someone who we trusted completely. Being betrayed for the first time always leaves scars.” Geralt isn’t sure if he should mention his own family trauma. It might make Jaskier feel worse.

“Speaking from experience, Geralt?” Jaskier sniffles.

Jaskier knows. He always fucking knows. It used to feel unsettling…to be known so well by someone. Now, well, Geralt’s not really sure how it feels. Perhaps a little like coming home.

“Yes.” Geralt admits. “I was thinking about my mother. She just left me on the side of the road for Vesemir to find. I will probably never get over that. So, I understand why you feel pain from the betrayal of your parents. You trusted them to be kind and loving because they are your parents and that is their job. But they chose not to be those things. And you blame yourself when you should not. It was not your fault, Jaskier. They should have let you become _you_. Not whatever it was that they wanted you to become instead. It was never up to them; they should not have acted like it was.”

“Your mother should have let you become whoever you were meant to be too. Forcing you to become a Witcher was cruel.”

“Yes, it was.”

“I see the point you made about my parents. I just hate that I still think about them. They still have control of me in some way because I think about them.”

“I do not think that is how it works, Jaskier.”

“Maybe,”

The two lay in silence. Geralt switches back and forth from rubbing small circle into Jaskier’s back to running his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. Jaskier traces small patterns over Geralt’s heart.

“Thanks for letting me cry on you.” Jaskier whispers. “Sorry your shirt’s wet.”

“I don’t mind.” Geralt whispers.

“Thank you.”

“Always Jask. I promise.”

“I really love you, Geralt. Truly.” Jaskier yawns and buries his face over Geralt’s heart.

“I love you too. Get some sleep, Jask.”

“Probably a good idea,”

Geralt listens as Jaskier’s breathing slowly evens out. He wishes he could have spared Jaskier from his terrible early years of life. He wishes he could have been kinder to Jaskier when he first met him. All he can do now is make sure that Jaskier knows that he is loved. It’s only fair. It’s what Jaskier does for him after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm @lotsofquestionslimitedanswers on tumblr and I post my works on there too.
> 
> Thank you for reading!:)
> 
> Please let me know what you think!:)

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a one-shot, but I got carried away, so there will be an additional chapter.
> 
> Also, I'm on tumblr as @lotsofquestionslimitedanswers and I post these fics on there too.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!:)


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